


Torment (is not delectable)

by AxZi



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: F/M, Family, Fem!Tsuna, Female Protagonist, Friendship, I am the worst, Male-Female Friendship, POV Third Person, Poor Hana, That's okay, asshole protagonist maybe?, besides then there's kyouya, fem!Tsuna has no motivation, he's an emotion all by himself, her friends do, her visions are just sick, her visions just show her stuff, mentions of offscreen rape/non-con, minimum self harm, not to fem!Tsuna though, of the world, or much feelings, she also sees sick visions when she sleeps, still some, twisted hyper intuition, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-12 12:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7934722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AxZi/pseuds/AxZi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>other title: the power of friendship, lol. </p><p>"Setsuna had decided not to make friends, already desensitised from that human need: It was inevitable that she would see any of her friends dirty secrets in her sleep once in a while."</p><p>Sawada Setsuna has, since as far back as she could remember, been tormented by visions of humanity's worse. Since the beginning for her, it's been difficult to try and get attached to anyone anymore. But that doesn't stop others from interfering, or for herself to get used to it. Honestly, she doesn't try and create friendships - people just attach themselves to her like leeches and don't let go. And then there's Hibari...well, he's a different issue all together - he's an emotion all on his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Late night, at an unremarkable room – except for its neatness – slept a girl named Sawada Setsuna.

Underneath a mound of blankets, cocooned by covers, it was the young adolescent’s very own sarcophagus.

But she wasn’t having a restful night.

No, Setsuna was unfortunately still alive. Maybe sarcophagus was the wrong word for her occupied bed, to the point the young girl might laugh in derision if anyone referred to it like that. 

After all, if you’re still alive, you also have to go through the small irritations and huge torments which plague life.

Yes, life truly was the biggest pain in the ass a person could experience. Which makes sense, since if you’re dead, you wouldn’t be experiencing **anything** anyhow.

It _is_ the biggest, most laughable conundrum which plagues humanity – be alive, and experience everything that hurts, or die, and experience nothing at all.

Instead, sleep like the dead. It’s the closest you’ll get to it.

But for the young lady, not even ‘death’ was a release.

Within her not-sarcophagus, tossing and turning, her eyes wrinkling in the frown which dented the bedrock of her forehead, she slept like she was alive.

Mumbling something underneath her breath, using her hands to switch positions on the mattress, her knees twitching like she was trying to run. Brows furrowing, catching her next breath and forgetting to release until releasing became imperative.

All Setsuna’s six senses were on hyper drive – it was almost like the adolescent wasn’t sleeping at all. And if anyone had ever bothered asking her, she’d tell you you’d be right on the money.

 Setsuna didn’t sleep. She waged war, each image flashing in front of her eyes an act in suppression, siege tactics.

Setsuna didn’t sleep because she _didn’t sleep_ – had _only recently_ figured out she couldn’t sleep – and that was all the truth she’d ever tell. If anyone ever dared to ask.

But the second truth of Setsuna’s life was that people didn’t _care._ Well okay, maybe that was a bit too strongly said – the adolescent wasn’t yet done giving people _some_ slack. But, from the people closest to her to the people who wouldn’t desist irritating her, they had never asked.

Had never said: “Hey Setsuna, is there some reason you are so grumpy all the time?”

Or: Hey Setsuna, whoa, you have some huge panda bags! Are you able to sleep alright?”

Even just a casual question asking after her health might’ve been something but instead, Setsuna got **a whole lot of nothing.**

The young adolescent’s father? Had skedaddled away from her and her mother the first option he got. Her mother? After realizing she’d never be able to **fix** Setsuna, had instead found her safety blanket in acting like _everything_ was okay.

Setsuna knew very well nothing could be fixed. But was wanting to be comforted by her, to at least have her mother show some understanding, _really_ asking for too much? 

Oh, and then there was that Kyoko girl who wanted to be Setsuna’s ‘friend’. _Maybe,_ if what had happened hadn’t happened, Setsuna might’ve actually thought the girl sincere. But at this point, it was already too late for any friendship between the two girls to grow somewhere. Kyoko was just too ‘good-natured’ so she stubbornly held on the seeds from when they had met regularly. Though even those hadn’t lasted long, had they?

And everyone else, well. The young woman liked Hibari but she would never confide in him, it was too scary. So now she just had herself, and she wasn’t a **particularly** stable person, so much even the people who didn’t care agreed on, she knew.

Would someone who was stable really decide to join the disciplinary committee: a school club revolving around physically punishing the school body who didn’t listen to Hibari’s often arbitrary rules?

Because, c’mon, isn’t a rule like ‘don’t crowd’ even for when the students first show up at school and, as they cannot go into their classrooms yet, so, so dubious? And that wasn’t even equating the way Hibari misused his powers over the school to the point that even the teachers feared him, ruling with an iron tonfa.

But the young adolescent waging war right now **liked that** of Hibari.

Feeling more at home at the other end of violence than anywhere else probably wasn’t the healthiest of hobbies, but pain dragged up irritation, Hibari dragged up fear, and those were two more emotions than she usually had access to.

It was just lucky she did listen to her instincts, or she could have quite awfully ended up on Hibari’s bad side as yet another delinquent with bloodlust, and be unceremoniously “bitten to death”.

No matter how much Setsuna was fed up with her mother right now, she didn’t want the last sight her mother saw of her since she saw Setsuna off in the morning, to be of Setsuna’s corpse in a body bag. That is, _if_ Hibari wouldn’t just vamoose her body off to some other disposal site like he had others. 

 Setsuna’s fear was very real, and very true.

But Hibari was likeable nevertheless.

But for now, her mother’s yell filtering in and snapping her awake, she was given today’s respite of waging war.

 

So it was time to start another day.

 _Yaaay,_ she thought, stroking back her fringe of brown spikes. _I am so looking forwards to this._

Her words a monotony even in the back of her mind, Setsuna creakingly moved her face so she could see the mirror hanging on its spot next to her wardrobe. Won by her long-lost father at raffling, she used its mirrored surface and inspected herself.

Panda bags underneath her eyes, messy hair which stuck up in spikes when not brushed, and the pale, drawn face of someone fed up with life itself. _Check._

Blinking tiredly, she broke her gaze with the mirror and sat up. Shuffled towards the wardrobe, and fetched out of it an immaculate school uniform.

“Heh,” A dry laugh left her lips. For all her mother’s uses (or lack thereof), her quest to act as if everything was normal stretched even to the way she ran laundry.

Ignoring how Setsuna wouldn’t iron the clothes she left out, she did it herself before stocking up her daughter’s wardrobe again. She couldn’t possible let Setsuna look as much as a wreck on the outside as she was in the inside, now could she?

“Haha.”  

After a couple more bouts of that robotic laughter, Setsuna let it die down with a sigh. She smoothed her fringe back, and then pouted as it fell into her face again. But even that pout was short lived.

She needed to take with her all the things for school. Frowning in concentration, she darted across her room to gather them all. Her bag sat next to the side cabinet next to her bed, her notebooks were inside its drawers. Her purse was hanging from the doorknob of her room, filled with pens and other necessary stationary. She found the white out just left out carelessly on the floor for her to trip over, and bent down to shove that in her bag too.

Now, she could easily _forget_ to take all this with her, but... Classes were boring without anything to do, so there was as much reason to do well in her classes as there wasn’t any.

That was a question she asked herself often, to figure out whether she should put any effort into things.

Did it matter in the end whether she did or didn’t?

It was, so dumb. She’d be just as well flipping a 100-yen coin to figure out what to do.

But she was done now. Hiking the bag over her shoulder, she left her arms free to cushion them behind her neck, and took the stairs down two at a time. She only let that connection break to catch the bento flung at her by Nana.

Blearily she took in the woman sitting on the creme couch, it would seem, flipping through a magazine. Only when the woman expectantly lifted her head to smile at him with the same smile she weathered her husband going off to work for years on end did Setsuna avert hers.

Setsuna walked through the exit, and looked towards the direction that’d lead her to school. Skirting around the neighbour’s chihuaha, who her neighbour had caught her kicking once and who Nana had apologized to with a bow.

It was at that point: “-SAWADA! OOOOIIII!” as she, pained, pressed her eyes shut and released a controlled exhale, she recognised the male’s voice calling for her. If only, she lamented inwardly as she started hearing thumping footsteps coming her way, her exiting time wasn’t so predictable.

“SAWADA!” the voice finished, it’s owner coming tearing over the street’s bend over to her.

She raised her hand. “Kyoko’s brother. Yo.”

Kyoko’s brother, ignoring the peace accord she’d meant it to be, pushing off with the heel of his leg annnnd also grabbed her hand in the same movement.

“O—oi! Let go, you brute!”

She struggled immediately, hitting with the ball of her hand against the arm holding onto her.

Ignoring her, Kyoko’s absurd older brother, with his yellow hair like a sunflower and the wiry strength in his grip despite being a high schooler, yelled out “Exercise is EXTREMELY healthy you know, especially for friends of my sister!”

Blackmail?! Just plain old sadism?! Or. . . she looked down, at her legs which were pumping awfully to keep up with this crazy boy’s pace. . . “Y—you want t-to talk about k-ky-kyoko don’t y-y-you-,” Urk.

She was getting shaken by his pace, noticeable in her voice, since sometimes he demanded she jump over bushes or fences and sort-of break into people’s property for shortcuts. _Which I very much doubt they are, but anyways._

She lifted her head to gaze at Ryohei’s angular face, his jaw set in determination. His eyes were a hard, flinty green. “It must be EXTREMELY lonely, not having any friends.”

The young woman gaped at him in astonishment, voice going high pitched, “-I, I have friends!” _The nerve of him!?_ Even her internal voice agreed. 

He furrowed his brows in resolve – Setsuna didn’t know how she knew it was resolve, she just could – and said, “You’ve cut ties with Kyoko, haven’t you?”

Setsuna lifted a finger. “....”

She let it fall. “Point.”

The outrage leached from her face like it hadn’t been there to begin with, unmasking it for the falsehood it’d been. Instead, she crossed her arms behind her neck again and looked at him with a faint smile. “And? I don’t particularly care, in any case.”

He scrutinized her, looking deeply at the tick of her smile; her otherwise nonchalant disposition. And when he decided on a reaction, of course it was pity, because he and Kyoko were peas of the same pod. It looked as ugly on him as it did her.

She blew at the spiky locks falling in her face, and commented, “I don’t need another lecture, you know.”

She’d halfway expected it, the minute she’d heard him yelling for her. She didn’t have a particular relationship with Ryohei on his own. But that didn’t seem to bother him, since he’d been going in between her and Kyoko for a while now with the blinding optimism Setsuna herself had lost the first day she’d met Kyoko’s friend, Hana.

Setsuna smiled to herself, the irritation already riding in her chest as it always did at the thought of Hana. But this wasn’t a pure emotion like the sort could be harvested through violence, so she shoved it to the side in her mind and took **care** to switch attention on Ryohei.

Those eyes where still on her, and she put in a dollop of effort to make her smile larger, tilting her head cutely. “What?” Twin thoughts of _how could you have a problem with this face_ and _see? I’m happy aren’t I, I’m fine, so cut the crap_ spun beneath her skull.

“Why do you always do this to yourself?” he asked softly.

_Oh gee, here we go in memory land again._

His sister's name was Sasagawa Kyoko, a popular girl at their school and a true Yamamoto Nadeshiko if she’d ever seen once.

She was a person whose caring nature never let things lie. Which automatically made her Setsuna’s nemesis and... _ah, who am I even fooling?_ Inwardly, Setsuna shook her head at her own silliness, her smile brightening as she contained her discontent inside.

It hadn’t always been that way.

_I still remember when I went to lunch with Kyoko often, because she kept on asking whether we could be friends, and eventually I caved._

Then one day she’d gone with her on her lunch break while school was still in order, and Hana had tagged along. **Hana.**

Hana was a person’s whose sheer existence finalized Setsuna’s downfall. But Hana was a good person. Hana had been hurt, and out of a sense of kinship towards her fellow hurt (wo)man, Setsuna could never hate her even though it was her fault, everything that happened afterwards.

Because after getting therapy for a year when she was five years old, Setsuna’d actually been convinced that she just had a case of an over-active imagination. Her dreams weren’t real, the psychologist had said, just night terrors. And as long as she understood that, they could never hurt her.

Hahhahahaha.

**They were real.**

The evidence was in Hana, the first person (but Setsuna was sure, because the world had a habit of kicking her in the gut that way) but not the last of the people she’d recognise from her dreams.

And Setsuna had actually—get this! Believed that person. She’d **stopped** caring about what happened to those people she saw in her dreams, the ones who did crimes and the ones who crimes were done to. It had almost been like she’d been watching a panoramic view of a crime thriller (or at sometimes, a horror movie) instead.

Now all the guilt that she’d been able to do that, ignore those people’s plights so heartlessly, came rushing in. _What a bad, bad child you are,_ **Setsuna.**

But she hated it too. Hated the people for getting hurt and letting her see it, and then have to care. Why should she care? Why shouldn’t it amuse her? Why WHY _WHY_

“Sawada!”

Setsuna’s eyes snapped open and she recoiled violently from his hands on her shoulders.

“Sawada!” he reached over and stopped her from tipping backwards onto the ground.

Huff, huff. Somehow, she was breathing harshly now. “A-ah,” she stuttered. _This is the sort of emotion you’re supposed to stamp on! What are you doing, Setsuna?!_ she heard spat from the back of her head.

She shuddered and closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, her mask was on again.

Setsuna stepped away from the curve of the pavement she’d been leaning dangerously towards and tilted her chin at Ryohei, who seemed ready to at any moment help her out again. “Ahaha... sorry. That was dumb.”

She looked past him, “We’re here,” cutting off the words she could see him about to unleash.

And they were there, at the school gate from Namimori high. Namimori High, known affectionately as Namichu.

It wasn't all that great.

For one thing, the school grounds were quite small and in need of repair in some parts. The prefects ruled the school with an iron fist, so it wasn't dirty. Anyone that dirtied or vandalised something from the school where sent to the hospital by the head of the disciplinary committee.

Setsuna eyed the red armband on her uniform, showing her rank as a prefect. She hadn't chosen to be in that club- it had just been the most interesting one. And besides, after Hibari, the head prefect had found out that she had some skill in Hapkido she was coerced into the committee through blackmail. Besides, anyone powerful not under his thumb had the rank of being his eternal enemy. And it took effort taking those Hapkido lessons far.

“Let’s go to class,” suggested Ryohei, and actually grabbed her by the arm before he began charging through the school gates.

He then entered the doors of the actual building, before going towards the staircase that led up to his classroom. His-not hers. “U-u-uh.” Her voice was shaky again from the pace, “We have different classes, you know?”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

 “...” Setsuna had the feeling struggling was pointless.              

The classroom for third years was *about* the same as her own. There were rows of desks. A black board for the teacher, and various tips on grammar and other stuff tacked to the walls.  The only important thing in which this place differed was the attention she was drawing. _I wonder whether they think I’m a transfer student._ It’d be sad if they did—she came to school dutifully each day and passed them now and then.

Ryohei casually deposited her in the seat next to him, in the middle of the third most row. She took her cue from him in ignoring someone’s whine about that being “his” seating place. The whine stopped anyway when she adjusted the disciplinary committee badge she had wound around her bicep.

The teacher entered not long after, and blinked once his eyes focused on the new classmate. "Sawada-san? What are you doing here, instead of in 1-A?"

“Sawada’s not feeling well,” Ryohei declared, a recalcitrant glint in the eyes he locked with his teacher’s.

The teacher, a stocky man with ash-blonde hair, took one look at the boy and sighed in resignation.

He changed the subject, “Then, Tanaka-san and Mejojo-san, please hand out the results for last week’s quizzes...”

Setsuna opined, _the staff from this school are much too used to taking orders from teenage boys,_ and cracked open one of her notebooks.

After that was gym. Oh gym, what a disappointment thy are. Maybe it wouldn’t be a disappointment if Setsuna could sharpen her martial arts’ skills, but there was no free time in gym class; there was only “lets do a team sport _again”_ time, and “Let all the girls wear leotards” time.

There were worse things than wearing leotards, Setsuna knew. Not many, but there were.

Enough said.

Setsuna had long ago forgone actually taking part in PE classes, swapping it for sitting on the benches and people watching her fellow students instead.

Speaking of which... at the moment, her classmates were playing baseball. A tall, tanned figure at home on the field, Yamamoto Takeshi, was the pitcher.

That wasn’t surprising—he was the baseball team’s ace. He was rather good, and everyone praised him just like usual. But somehow he seemed wrong in Setsuna's eyes, like his smile was warped 'n untrue or something. It was rather peculiar.

But it was none of her business, so at the end of class when he walked past her smiling and talking to a classmate, she ignored him.

Once she got out of the school gate, Kyoko was there waiting for her.

Setsuna smiled without humour. Undoubtedly, this was another one of the girl’s patented interventions. Kyoko just could not concede! Well, if she really wouldn’t stop, Setsuna would give her the rejection she sought. Again and again, until it finally sunk in.

The petite shaped girl spoke up with a pretty smile- “Setsuna! I’ve been waiting for you.”

Ignoring her, Setsuna was already walking past before she’d finished getting out that sentence.

Not deterred, Kyoko ran to catch up with her, pace only slowing once she was walking next to Setsuna in silence. Who wasn’t as petty as to start running.

Kyoko, relentless in cheer and full of kind smiles, was such a bother. Somehow, it really felt to Setsuna like she was fighting her final boss while she was with Kyoko, the anathema of all she was. She didn't think she had been calm in her life.

"So, Hana thinks.... I shouldn't be so pushy,'' the girl began, glancing to the side to see what she thought.

Setsuna agreed wholeheartedly, but did not want to talk about what Hana thought. She still remembered vividly those images from the year before.

She sped up, ignoring the protests of Kyoko. Looking over her shoulder, saying "I don't have time to play,'' and turned it into a run.

Pffft. Her promise not to be petty had only lasted until now, but then, Setsuna had never fooled herself she wasn’t.

Kyoko unable to keep up with that, started lagging behind her, as expected.

Setsuna was usually well aware revealing her athletic skills would cause unneeded attention, so she hid them as a natural course. That wasn’t hard to do, considering she’d already barred herself from doing PE. But she was confident enough in her physical fitness she wasn’t shy to say she’d be able to run as good as a track team champion.

Also, her hapkido, but that went without saying.

"You can't ignore everything and everyone for ever!" Kyoko yelled from about a yard away.

Setsuna stuck her fingers in her ears.

_So dramatic._

Later when she burst into her room, she did it in a bad temper. When she slipped, she couldn't help but feel she should have expected it: the banana peel to act as the cherry on the top of her misfortune Sunday. Setsuna, when she felt something above apathy, she became very clumsy. Though it was rare for that to happen.

"Ow,'' she moaned monotonously and then kicked the wall for good measure. It hurt like hell, and she couldn't feel her head wound anymore. And so she wouldn't feel her wounded leg, she bit viciously in her shoulder. Which hurt even more. But now she felt every wound.

She stormed through the hallway down the stairs, ignoring her mother standing at the bottom.

"Oh my, is that-" Nana asked but Setsuna interrupted her by grabbing the medicine box out of the hiding place. She ripped apart the covering for the bandage aggressively, and then bandaged her wounded shoulder. "The dog did it,'' she intoned. Nana knew that wasn't true, because Setsuna had entered without the bite, and had been upstairs.

So of course, she had to gain the wrong conclusion.

Flowers seemed to fly from her body as she looked at Setsuna with heart shaped eyes. "Has my emotionless daughter finally grown up?" Twinkle, twinkle.

Setsuna blinked owlishly, but didn't tell her the truth. Whatever Nana thought was fine; she didn't want Nana to be scared that Setsuna was self inflicting pain on herself.

She wasn't, she just needed to get rid of unwanted emotions and she was an idiot that thought another wound's pain would get rid of the first pain. When she became pissed of she usually had to take it out on furniture or the like.

Maybe on a human it would be better?

She supposed she could ask her boss, the head of the disciplinary committee for some private lessons in fighting... Nah, he'd kill her.

Her wounds securely bandaged, she re-entered her room and paid special attention to her book cases full of novels. Fantasy ones...and mafia ones, too. Yeah, for some reason the mafia interested her.

Settling in front of the book case, she trailed her finger tips over the backs until she touched the book she wanted. It was by far the most confusing mafia book that even she couldn't puzzle out.

Setsuna sunk into her mattress. Cracking the book open, she settled down to read.

Next day, she was woken up one again by her dear mother's yelling.

"Setsuna, time for school!" Her dear mother yelled from downstairs. "By the way, I've called in a tutor for you!"

She blinked a few times to rid herself of the image of twins fighting each other viciously, and got up.

A tutor?

Hm. How to feel about it...Setsuna didn't know.

When she looked at the vanity she wasn't surprised to see panda eyes blinking back at her. Yawning, she started rummaging through her closet for a spare uniform. Probably her mother would tell her about the tutor later.

Her mother was in the kitchen, as was usual, and was making breakfast for herself. There was a baby on the table, wearing a fedora and a lizard.

... _Huh?_

"It's a chameleon named Leon,'' he stated after she thought that, as if he could read minds.

He was a peculiar baby, and for some reason he was very articulate. But she couldn't really blame him, seeing as she herself was the highest kind of weird. She was an emotionless girl who couldn't care less, with a secret.

"Ciassu, my name is Reborn and your tutor,'' he said right after.

She blinked owlishly, feeling like reality had just come crashing down. Rather then say anything though, she used her well used method against everything; she just ignored him.

The baby ended up following her when she ran to school.

"I am a hitman,'' he said creepily from her shoulder. Setsuna tripped and crashed in a fence.

"Ouch,'' she deadpanned and dragged herself upright, hoping beyond hope that the attention seeking brat had died by the collision.

He had instead jumped off of her shoulder before she crashed head first against the fence. Blood drippled from her head, and she swiped some away from her eyes. She felt this weird urge to strangle him, but let it pass by instead. Prison wasn't a place she was attracted to, thank you very much.

"And you are going to be a mafia boss,'' he said, "For the Vongola."

The Vongola? That horrible family, that she had received many images from? _She_ was going to be a mafia boss from _that_ place?

In her disbelief, Setsuna decided not to take him seriously, even though her memories were enough evidence. "Ahahaha, the mafia? The next you’ll be telling me you’re my fairy godmother, come to help put me in a pumpkin coach to get ready for the ball.” A smile twisted on her lips.

She walked further on, still chuckling now and then. (The baby watched her, his perspective eyes seeing something she had wanted to hide: recognition.)

 

Later she came across Ryohei again.

"After school I'm going to kidnap you, to the extreme!"

Setsuna sighed. By now everyone was staring at Kyoko's older brother like he was a criminal. Ryohei **had** just barged in class for who knows what, and announced something police could put him in jail for.

Had he no discretion?

Steadfast, she ignored him-her bored eyes looking instead outside, where she thought she saw Reborn hidden creepily in a sakura tree.

Whispers like- "Should we call the police?" and "Maybe it's best not to show any sudden movements,'' where her only amusement.

Done with what he’d come to do, Ryouhei wandered off again.

He left behind relieved classmates and a teacher who had just started dialing the police. Least the teacher had tried to do something; he wasn't as useless as usually.

Setsuna, leaning her chin in her hand, watched the teacher as he spoke about a "supicious" boy in the school and his threats to kidnap people. _Haha. Very funny._

But seriously, were there eyes in that Sakura tree? Eyes twitching, she was sure it was Reborn. Man, that guy was such a stalker.

At least he didn't come inside the school with her. She supposed he stalked her to observe her habits and what else, but she didn't do much on a school day. With no friends, and without paying attention to class.

The class ended quickly enough and it was lunch.

Before she could run away from Kyoko, the girl caught up with her and physically dragged her to Hana and Ryohei. Setsuna was forced into the shade under a tree. That same tree that Reborn just happened to be in.

"Ciassu,'' he greeted cheerfully. She flashed him a sour look.

"Have you heard? Mochida has asked out Kyoko!" Hana giggled from her spot, talking to Ryohei and completely ignoring Setsuna. Good? Bad? Setsuna didn't even.

Kyoko pouted. "That's not true! We’re just friends...''

Setsuna cracked open her bento, feeling it would be to troublesome to try to escape from that place.

She ate the ball of onigiri, listening to the trio's antics. Ryohei was being supportive over Mochida because he was an extreme kendo captain. His words, not Setsuna's. Hana too, jubilated Mochida's looks. The two seemed to be having fun enabling each other’s opinions.

Closing her eyes, Setsuna relaxed fully into the shade. Really...maybe it did feel nice to let their voices lull her to sleep. Perhaps she wouldn't even dream.

"..cy, Setsuna!" Someone was shaking her gently. Setsuna blinked, slowly becoming more alert and awake again. Comprehension filtered in quickly, and her face lapsed into the usual twisted smile. Forget dreaming about a different outcome for once, that wasn’t for her, even if she let down her guard.

 _Friendship_ isn’t _magic._ Why **had** she even dared wishing? _So dumb._

Eyes full of worry, Kyoko was face to face with her.

Setsuna played dumb. "Wassit?” Asking sleepily, she faced Kyoko and yawned before pushing herself up to her elbows. Setsuna looked at her watch, and noted that they still had ten minutes left till lunch was over. "Why did you wake me up so fast?" she asked, honestly curious.

"You had a nightmare!" Hana said, for once talking to Setsuna instead of ignoring her.

Setsuna looked drowsily at them, not in the mood to down-press what was up for once. “That’s just my natural sleeping patterns. And it wasn’t even all that bad. I wasn’t the one being burnt alive.”

Kyoko checked her temperature. Which was weird, since Setsuna wasn't sick or something, and had just dreamt like normal.

"Man, nothing can affect you to the extreme!" Ryohei pointed out, an almost concerned undertone skidding over his usual bedrock of exuberance.

Ah, that was it. Because she didn't show any emotional response after she had a horrid dream...Kyoko thought something was wrong with her. Setsuna batted Kyoko's hand away with a slow motion. "Well, I'll be going back to school now. Ciao.''

Oof. She flinched a little as she let that slip out, but didn't look back.

Reborn had only been with her a day and her inner Italian was already awake. Her ancestor was an Italian- how else did she end up being the apparent would be mafia boss? Which she still didn't trust in by the way.

Setsuna was permanently in denial over all the troublesome things in her life, wishing to ignore them like they didn't exist.

She trudged over to the school, surprised to see so many people gathering when there was a chairman that would bite them to death should they crowd.

Setsuna decided that if there was no good reason for them to be crowding, she would bite them to death in Hibari's stead. What she found was a good reason though; Yamamoto Takeshi was standing on top of the roof, the only thing keeping him save the old rickety fence.

“...”

_Yamamoto? Why...someone like him?_

She was embarrassed to admit, just like the useless children just peeping at him standing before that fence, her first instinct was to freeze up.

But she managed to shake whatever spell had taken a hold of her to start pushing her way through the thrum of said children.

She did feel sympathetic though.Yamamoto was popular; the collective student body didn’t want to believe he’d really do it. They’d rather be ignorant of the truth than admit that the boy everyone was secretly jealous of would be in bad enough sorts he’d want to commit suicide.

_And I, just like those children, hadn’t been expecting something like this at all. Not from him._

Yamamoto was the male version of Kyoko, after all.

She ran through the halls until she got to the stair well and began climbing it. Once at the top of the staircase, she pushed open the squeaky door to the rooftop.

It was there when, usually tan, unusually smiling, Yamamoto turned to face her.

She spoke at one, "Why are you doing this? You have no reason-''

Her words falling away when she noticed the arm wrapped in a sling. For someone who loved playing baseball, it was sure to be painful in a mental sense. He noticed, his smile becoming more tragic. Though despite it, he still looked like Namichuu's Ace.

Dependable Yamamoto, who couldn't even let himself cry. 

He rocked on his heels. "Yes, for someone like me, playing baseball is all I can do. Now I'm useless. I just want to die... You understand, right? Everyone ignores you, it's like you're invisible.''

 _A mocking tone in the self deprecating...Am I hearing this correctly?_ If so, it was obvious what he thought about her, and equally as funny.

Setsuna held in humoured giggles but let a smirk appear. “Oho, you really think so? And the possibility that I **want** to remain incognito – have you ever thought about that?”

She could see him take a visible mental back-step, the machinery behind his eyes grinding in motion as he stilled his tongue.

_Good._

She went on, “I only do what I feel like doing. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. This is something you don't have... this freedom.”

She gestured with clawed hands.

“You feel bad, no, suicidal because you are useless, and feel you won't be able to play good when the wound is healed. But what does that matter? You have fun playing baseball even if you're bad at it, right?”

He was motionless, so she cranked up her advice-no, rant.

“What does it matter that people are disappointed in you? Remember when you just began? I assume you weren't good then, but you played even though you had no one counting on you. What good is being useful to someone when being useless just means you have more freedom?"

\---

Everyone was stumped because of that speech. Even Kyoko; it was the most she had heard from Setsuna's feelings. Somehow it was sad too. But in a twisted way it made sense to Yamamoto. He had only been playing baseball lately to please others, that's why he had gone in a slump when he felt he wasn't good enough. He had lost the joy in it.

Maybe, maybe having to start over because of the wound wasn't a bad thing. Maybe he could regain his passion for it, for himself again.

Yamamoto smiled, pure and free, and walked away from the edge of the building. "Thank you,'' he said sincerely.

Everyone on the school grounds soon lost interest, thinking it had been a play or something.

Kyoko though, knew it wasn't. Those words Setsuna had spoken where heartfelt.

Reborn meanwhile, was sitting thoughtfully in one of his many hideouts spread over the school while classes began in session again.

He now knew what Setsuna needed to be a wonderful mafia boss. Incentive: the will to live for her goal, instead of herself.

Because if there was one thing he knew, it was that the current Setsuna wouldn't feel any inclination towards being a boss, who's duties where protecting their family and taking responsibility of a lot of things.

Setsuna _was_ very perceptive; having been able to puzzle out what the boy felt and how to get him to stop sulking.

He smirked at the image of an annoyed Setsuna being followed by Yamamoto, who was now completely loyal to Setsuna and wanted to be friends.

Family member acquired.

 

It had been exactly two weeks from that day, and Setsuna had made peace with the fact that the Sasagawa siblings and Yamamoto would be her friends, no matter how distant she acted. (Translation: She didn’t care enough to deter them.)

She even gained a subordinate for the mafia, a boy named Gokudera with premature greying hair.

The gray-haired, sloppily dressed boy had shouted, "I hate you, prepare to die." He'd ignited dynamites of all things with the burning end of the cigarette in his mouth. She'd dodged them even as they were thrown, were they exploded loudly over the school grounds.

It might be inappropriate, but at the time she'd been more worried for Hibari's reaction than getting out alive. She supposed had she would have to bite the perpetrator to death before he attacked her.

(For some reason Hibari always bit the first person he saw at the scene of the crime, even if it wasn't the perpetrator.)

Gokudera became more and more enraged as she dodged them all nimbly, and ducked under his weapons to deliver him a round house kick and a kick in the nuts.

He groaned, and the dynamites fell from his hands. Which was bad, very bad. Gokudera stared as it fell devastating slow.

Before they could hit the floor and explode him, Setsuna grasped them and then chucked them in the air, where they exploded prettily like firework.

Killing someone in plain view wasn't allowed from Hibari, the only reason she had saved him from his untimely demise.

Gokudera had bowed all the way to the floor, his forehead pressing into the ashes of his dynamites. "I am but a subordinate to the mighty tenth!" he had said.

Setsuna's eyes had lit up as she realised what was happening, once Reborn explained it for her. She'd always wanted an underling. Before he could do anything she heaped up some more abuse on him, as punishment for destroying the school grounds. She had even made him apologise to the chairman himself! And somehow, Gokudera was still infatuated with her, even after really being bitten to death.

Okay....maybe Setsuna still held a grudge to him over a particular comment "your wussiness is an eyeful." And besides, Gokudera just asked to be routinely abused.

Now she was on the roof. Without her notice, the area had become much crowded. Though they weren't going to be there for long perhaps, as Kyoko seemed to have a suggestion.

"Let's go on a picnic!"

Yamamoto tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. "But where to?" he asked. Setsuna took a sip of her fresh juice, unconcerned.

"We don't want to go on a picnic, right tenth?" Gokudera argued as always when it concerned Yamamoto.

For some reason he had some one -sided rivalry going with who was going to be the tenth's right hand. For that reason, if Yamamoto agreed with something, Gokudera disagreed.

Setsuna's face kept her face blank as a newly purchased canvas, her immeasurable poker face staying the same as she helped herself to the banana Ryohei handed her.

She wondered absently where Reborn was, who was usually all for the bonding of family members, even though Setsuna didn't want to be a boss. Too much hassle.

"Ciassu,'' Reborn popped out of nowhere, as if he had been waiting for his cue somewhere all this time. "I think it's a good idea.''

Seriously, was Setsuna the only one who noticed that he was a baby, and so shouldn't be so darn articulate? Yes? Reality is screwed.

Her own mother even made him coffee, which you didn't usually give to babies. Although, somewhere in distant memories she remembered her own father spoon feeding her ice coffee. Come to think of it, that was probably the reason for her taste of the stuff, because she hated cappuccino’s and anything else coffee related. Just like how Setsuna liked ice tea, and not the weird cheap stuff or real tea. It was because she had nicked some of that when younger.

But then again, Reborn didn't have the aura of being a baby. He acted too sadistically happy and creepy for that somehow, and she had a feeling his body did not fit with his age.

"Like Kyoko said, where should we go then, to an extreme place?" Ryohei asked after his sip of energy juice which was made out of something nauseating. Only for her though, since he'd been sipping at that drink since lunch had started.

Reborn smiled his usual creepy smile which was just him. "Leave it to me,'' he said, and somehow everyone was satisfied with that, and dropped the subject.

Before they could continue conversing, Setsuna felt her phone vibrate. With a crease in her brow she pulled it out of her pocket and checked the caller. It said that it was from Hibari. That meant she had to pick it up, lest she find herself bitten to death.

She excused herself towards the others and walked to the staircase, where it was quieter.

"Hello,'' she prattled in the phone. "Ara? Do I really have to? It's vital and if I don't come within five minutes I will be bitten to death... I understand."

Click. Setsuna stuffed her phone back in her coat and quickly walked up to her friends, as she supposed they were so in her eyes now, despite her reluctance.

"I have to go, ciao,'' she called and then ran away before she would be bitten to death. She had a five minute time limit to come to the reception room, far away from there.

Eventually she came to a halt and pulled open the door to the reception room. It was a spacious room, and it looked clean and had a refreshing theme. And instead of actually being used for guests, like it should, it was used as Hibari's napping place.

It was their own fault for allowing Hibari to run rampant, in her opinion.

Ahh, the look in his eyes was pure terror for her. It was refreshing, the feeling he could invoke in her while she felt apathy at best concerning other matters.

"So why did I get called here, boss?" She asked as she leant against the door opening. Someone coming inside his territory was unvoiced taboo. But strangely enough, he beckoned her to come closer. She did so immediately, because she had always wanted to see the insides of the room better.

She hadn't ever dared come in even when Hibari wasn't there though. Her life was on the line, she knew that without a doubt. And the one thing that did concern Setsuna was her life.

"I'm sick, bring me to the medical bay,'' he huffed as she flashed him a questioning glance. Hmm. He did look a lot paler than usual.

She hid her exasperation. She should have known. In some ways Hibari was just a great big cat, who liked playing with mice, making the mice in question feel so much less worth in comparison to him.

But like a cat, he wanted to be pampered on occasion, although he was a wild stray that could bite you and give you rabies or any other decease once he became bored.

She was sure once his sickness was gone he would gather more blackmail of her just so he could force her not to tell a soul of his actions today. But it showed a bit of trust for him to call her rather then the more loyal Kusakabe who had been saved by Hibari once and was now his bitch, like Gokudera was hers.

But what Setsuna could see from his state was that he probably had a high fever. She pressed her hand on his head, not surprised to feel the fire raging at her. And if it was as hot as this, most people would have found themselves unconscious already, from dehydration or something else.

Before she made any move to do what he ordered she phoned a few cannon fodder of the disciplinary committee to scare away all children from the path to the medical bay from there.  
They did it without question; she was higher up then them, and it was a rule that higher-ups where meant to be obeyed, and could only be disobeyed with express approval of Hibari.

She gathered him up in her arms, ignoring the slightly glazed over look in his eyes, and walked from the reception room quickly.

The halls were completely free of students; those grunts had done their jobs well, but she had to wonder how... where a few students bones damaged beyond repair? Meh, it didn't concern her.

Setsuna hiked over to the medial bay, barging in with a kick because her hands weren't free, to busy holding Hibari securely.

Shamal, the doctor tried to deny her entrance.

Hibari expertly stifled such foolish thoughts with a well aimed glare, which was effective even though it was obvious that he was in some way sick.

She shoved Hibari on a free medical bed; not that any were actually used. Every boy was denied entrance and every girl knew better then to come an inch near the perverted doctor.

"Take care of him,'' she ordered, "We have enough connections to make you lose your job,'' she warned at his soured face.

Shamal sighed, and then prepared a hot compress.

When she tried to move away from the bed Hibari's tug on her sleeve stopped her. "Don't go, or I'll bite you to death.''

Setsuna blinked owlishly, but decided it was most likely he didn't trust the doctor.

"Setsuna-chan you are looking deceivingly genuine today'' Shamal commented a half an hour later, at the almost unassailable flush on her cheeks.

Hibari was sleeping, and had fitfully in his sleep grabbed her arm like it was a lifeline and did not let go. It would take too much effort to remove said boss so Setsuna had done nothing.  


But while she had been non-committal about him grabbing her arm, using it as a pillow was a bit much. Seeing the feared Hibari like this, did wonders to her icy disposition.

She decided to ignore the pervert, who whined at her to not be so cruel, and fitted her head against her arm, next to Hibari. She was feeling sleepy, but that was like her default mood. And while there was a lot of chance she would wake Hibari up with her restless moves while dreaming, ending up with an irritated carnivore, she couldn't find it in herself to care. And no, it wasn't because she felt relaxed enough to sleep next to Hibari, not at all.

It was very risky indeed.

It was just, Setsuna had a complicated relationship with him. Somewhat like neutral fear; but then familiarity as well and he just happened to be the first that caused some other emotion besides apathy to erupt within her.

Her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing deepened, her hand tangled unnoticed by her in Hibari's hair.

 

Shamal involuntarily thought that for once Setsuna would get her rest. Setsuna was someone he knew quite well, because she happened to come in the medical bay a lot, not frightened away by his good-natured flirting.

She had problems with sleeping, he didn't know what, and because she didn't get good sleep she usually tried to replenish her energy by lounging in his medical beds. And that's when she usually talked to him to pass the time, or because she wanted a distraction to keep her from sleeping. Most of the subjects were about books and her fascination with the mafia.

The tenth, in his opinion, couldn't have been a better person. But then again, he was biased because she was a girl and the other contender wasn't.

Unseen from one of his many hidey places Reborn was watching this all. A prospective family member who already showed a liking to Setsuna. And the usual lack of emotion in Setsuna's eyes, which had before been dulled, had been chased away by this person.

Reborn knew at once that it was vital that Hibari joined her famiglia. He could perhaps unfreeze Setsuna's personality, or at least cause her to be more lively in comparison to her usual disposition.  
He knew that Setsuna's callous and uncaring attitude was still there just as much as before, no matter how she faked emotion in front of her friends. She was probably even unaware that subconsciously Setsuna had started to see her 'friends' as pawns that were handy to have, and as such her way of reacting to them had shifted.

Maybe she herself, the conscious her, just thought she was beginning to warm up to her friends. Self delusion was a very dangerous thing indeed.

Thankfully Setsuna awoke before Hibari, who hadn't woken up by her aggravated movements while sleeping.

She sighed, and stretched. For some reason, even after having had her normal dreams she felt a little bit more refreshed.

Shamal was busy making notations of something, and looked up once the bed creaked as she pushed herself off of it.

"Take care of him,'' she stated frostily, her face as blank as ever, and walked out, leaving Shamal to sigh at her uncuteness.

She had slept through classes, and realised that her friends had planned for a picnic... oh well. It didn't matter to Setsuna. That just meant she had less troublesome antics to deal with. Perhaps she should even thank Hibari... nah, he'd take it the wrong way, and that would be a drag.

She folded her arms against the back of her head, the freezing breeze of the wind feeling nice against her skin. Because she had just slept Setsuna didn't feel like going back home and being sent to bed by her mother.

Setsuna walked over to the stream inside the woods nearby and splattered her face with the coolness.

She slowly fell down on the grass, sighing. Being a mafia-boss candidate was too much trouble for it to be worthwhile.

Like Gokudera- while it was fun heaping abuse on him for the smallest self imagined discretion, he managed to gather too much attention on her. And like everyone knew, Setsuna would rather stay in the shadows then be known. It was too much of a chore.

She would have to totally erase her current personality because it was one that could be bullied.

But because she had been so invisible before, nobody had known about her, how she was and so forth. That was how she had managed to stay that way as she was without being bully bait.

Maybe she could sick Gokudera on them, but more powerful foes would be sure to come, looking for a challenge. She thoughtfully trailed her fingers through the cold water, her body in automatic as her mind searched for an answer.

How could she get rid of her new hanger on's- could she even get rid of them?

Kyoko and her brother had turned out to be incredible stubborn when it had to do with her, strange enough. And Gokudera hadn't left even when she acted the way she did towards him; that is, mean and selfish.

Reborn was as uptight as ever, even as a small toddler. He had managed to bring in more -ahum, sacrifices- members for his own amusement. He would surely be hard to shake of; and that's not mentioning the fact that he is a hitman, and someone who you shouldn't piss of.

Setsuna stood up straighter and began to travel back at the streets, in search for some delinquents she could bite to death for the sake of discipline.

Awhile after her search, she travelled back home, bloodied but not by her own veins.

Some fools had tried to vandalise one of her favourite shops. She made sure they weren't able to anymore.

Setsuna knocked on the door and was allowed entrance. Reborn was sitting on the windowsill, drinking a cup of cappuccino.

He greeted her with a nod of his head. She hung up her coat on the hanger and walked inside the living room.

"Buongiorno mama," she greeted in Italian, since she did know a few sentences and draped herself on the couch.

"Buonasera, bambina," Nana greeted back in the same language as she had a habit of doing, before looking down back at the sports magazine she had been reading.

Contrary to what people think of Nana at first glance, she was a very sporty woman who had hobbies besides being the perfect housewife.

Aka having a life.

Setsuna's hobbies included learning all she could about history and languages and such.

Setsuna would wonder why her mother wasn't worried that she was bloodied up, but only later, when she was lying in her warm bed. When she closed her eyes, the scene which was her room fled from her mind, and instead, she saw images of pain, hatred and heart ache.

But that was usual, and even as she gazed at a boy with a cursed eye lose his father, she couldn't feel anything, couldn't empathise.


	2. Second

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which behaving badly wreaks consequences. Also a creepy(?) Yamamoto interlude.

Setsuna hated the sun. She had never been so certain as now, squinting against its bright yellow beams as they shone cheerfully in her eyes. Too bright.

“Setsuna,” Kyoko said, “Aren’t you enjoying the picnic?”

Somehow she’d ended up in this situation, Kyoko’s brother sitting next to the girl. Gokudera scowling from where he was in charge of the snacks, and Yamamoto poking at his sling and wincing.

They had all switched into casual clothes and Setsuna hadn’t known it was supposed to be a thing. As the only one in her heavy school uniform, her mood had already taken a dip. But then there was the sun too, tauntingly blind before it hid behind the clouds, just to peak out again. _We’re not playing peekaboo, dammit._

But even those thoughts were already starting to slip her away. Though the sun continued being an irritant, she found she couldn’t really blame it for shining. Taking situations like this seriously took a lot out of her, emptying out till she became hollow…as usual.

She shook her head at the kind girl’s worry. “It’s…alright.”

From the sceptical looks the girl and her brother shared, Setsuna figured she hadn’t been very convincing.

 _No matter._ She hadn’t particularly tried, because though she couldn’t be happy about it, she still knew to appreciate concern. She wanted to feel that a bit more, so defusing it by acting happy when she actually wasn’t, well…that wasn’t on her agenda.

“Hey Gokudera, are you not enjoying this either?” she asked as she leaned forwards on her knees. She watched his face immediately clear up like a sunless sky at the inquiry.

“No no, being with the tenth like this after school…I couldn’t possibly hate it.” Spiky grey locks bounced as he shook his head. They caught her attention for a moment.

“You’re going prematurely grey though. I think you’re just lying.” Setsuna made sure her smile looked tame unlike the smirk bubbling up from her chest. “This must be really stressful for you.” She softened the smile even more. “Do you….not like me?”

He jolted a little, and the picnic bench shook where he had his hands on it. “NO!” His yell was surely loud, but he quickly noticed that and fervently shook his head. “No, that’s not true. I couldn’t be more loyal, tenth. I promise I’m telling you the truth, tenth!”

He was getting flustered now. She could see a fine tremor on the hairs of his skin. Leaving him like that should feel satisfying…but she felt nothing at all.

“We know that,” Kyoko said softly, and placed her hand on his denim clad shoulder. For such a caring girl, receiving her glare felt like trying to catch a bullet in your hands. Setsuna figured she should put a stop to her teasing now.

“Sorry,” she clasped her hands together. “That was a joke.”

His first reaction was to sag as his distress drained from him, but a complicated expression rose onto his face. Torn, like he didn’t know how to feel.

_That’s two of us._

A picnic surely wasn’t fun at all.

 

“Ah, the petite princess has entered my territory again?” Shamal asked her as she shoved the door aside.

“Yeah,” she answered back distractedly as she climbed into one of the vacant beds. That was all of them though – since Shamal’s flirting chased most people away.

With the smell of disinfectant burning her throat, she watched through a gap in the covers she shoved over her head how Shamal watched her for a second, before returning to his desk next to the entrance of the room.

She averted her eyes from him after.

 _Nice and snug._ She was on a cloud. On a cloud drifting….

Before she was crashing back to the ground at someone else blaring – “Hey, Setsuna!”

…. _Yamamoto._

Not a moment after she’d gotten comfortable in that half-zoning out, not really sleeping state of mind, he just **had** to interfere, huh?

“Heeeey,” she monotoned back at Yamamoto. His refreshing grin only widened at the lacklustre answer. _Stop sparkling. I’m in agony._

“I’m getting my injury checked,” Yamamoto said, lifting his arm up. He was outfitted smartly as usual, looking like the model student. One of the 0.01 of the school population who looked good wearing their school uniform, uniform.

Setsuna found herself inadvertently thinking – _he’s basically everything I want to be._ Cheerful, smiling, and most of all: content. Only a few of her words had forced him from the edge, while meanwhile, in her heart she was always on the edge. But she felt thankful for him too. So much so she didn’t tease him as much as the other boy in their group.

From his desk next to the boy, Shamal made a face. “…Really? You can’t just go to the hospital at the other side of town?”

At Yamamoto’s cheerful shake of the head, he heaved a sigh. “Siiiiigh.” It sounded very fake though. “Okay,” he went on, “Get on that slab. We’ll take an x-ray picture of your arm.”

Setsuna raised an eyebrow at his easy acceptance. The Shamal she had known would never accept to tend to a boy of all things. (Sometimes she wondered why he was so zealous. But really, what was it any business of hers.)

She wasn’t pretentious enough to think it was because she knew the boy. She didn’t think Shamal paid her that much attention.

A rustle, like branches scraping together in a heavy wind had her looking out of the window to see Reborn. His back quickly disappeared as he jumped from the sill and she allowed her eyebrows to tick together. _Wonder why he was here._

Well, that probably wasn’t her business either. (More likely, his business landed under stalking her. Which she was getting used to enough she didn’t even consider it anything to think twice about….- _that isn’t a good thing._ )

“Your healing is coming along well,” she tuned in to hear Shamal say.

Yamamoto’s voice in answer came a bit breathless. “Really?”

The hope in his voice felt squishy in her chest, so she coughed to get rid of it. He immediately swivelled around to focus on her. She caught a glimpse of his brown eyes becoming wild before blinking, and they turned mellow again.

“That’s great,” she felt pressured to say.

His lips quirked. “Yep.” His eyes turned out of focus however, the brown turning transparent, seeing right through her. “Playing baseball again…hm.” She felt he needed to say more, so she patiently waited as she twisted the covers around her fingers.

But, not giving it a chance, Shamal cut in with his usual complaints.  “If that’s done, get out. Uuugh, boy germs. I’m going to have the next half hour to clean the slab up again.” As predicted, his warmth turned cold before long.

Yamamoto waved with his sling, no regret in his exuberant countenance. “Talk to you later, Tsuna!”

Before she could splutter at the sudden shortening of her name, the door closed behind him and the air grew warm again.

Shamal stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Finally.”

“….”

She had nothing to say.

 

Her relaxation time ended up cut short before long, too.

“Yes boss, I’ll be there,” Setsuna murmured in the receiver before she heard the dial tone. She looked at the phone in disbelief at his rudeness for a second, before shrugging and flipping the phone back into her pocket.

“Going already?” Shamal commented as she crawled out from underneath the covers.

“You know how he is.” She shrugged again after saying so, and left him there.

She arrived at the location Hibari had wanted to be not long after. In front of the staff’s hallway. Usually students came here only to receive their tests back, and the door was locked, but she saw that wasn’t the case today.

An ajar door in front of her...almost like a very deliberate trap. Setsuna scratched the skin of her wrists as she moved closer, before kicking the door into the wall.

“Where’s that shitty brat? What? I SAID where is Hibari Kyouya!” croaked in her ears a second later.

The room was very average, with its cubicle walls stuck with sticky notes; the shelves of documents close to the entrance. Oh, and then there was this kid with floppy blue hair and casual wear, waving a gun in the air.

Setsuna’s mind immediately kicked into hyper-drive. But distantly, she couldn’t help thinking – _and instead of coming down himself, he sent me here? What is that boy thinking._ But an order was an order, and she had to diffuse the situation before any of the hostages – _oh, right, the teachers were there too –_ got hurt.

_Like a bomb._

She didn’t bother trying to stifle the inappropriate hilarity despite the terror. _Actually_ , came the thought, as she shuffled into the office room with her hands held aloft. _Boss is still more terrifying._

“Who are you?”

The boy spat this out, and his eyes burnt with disgust to see her.

Setsuna put on a wobbly smile, and said softly, “I was coming here to get my exam results.” She almost tripped over herself (and this wasn’t done on purpose) but it helped encourage the image she projected. _Just a bystander, nobody important._ Sparkle sparkle. It worked for her mom.

The boy paused. Unlike Yamamoto, he didn’t have a super expressive face, so she didn’t know whether the reaction was because she’d taken him aback or he was judging his options. But Setsuna didn’t have long to wait.

The boy sneered, looking remarkably unhinged for it, before he threw his head back and barked out his laughter. “Before you try an innocent bystander impression,” his jawline tightened minutely, “Don’t forget the disciplinary badge you’re wearing.”

 _Ah._ Not what she’d been trying to achieve at all but. _Not bad, either._ Cause now he could narrow him down as one of the school’s students; it was second nature for them to look out for the badge.

“Okay. You’re right,” she said, giving up the plot. She slowly lowered to her knees, her hands still in the air. “What are your demands?” At his look, she added, “That’s how these sort of things work, right?”

The boy gnawed on his lip, before his arm twitched like he was going to aim on her. _Yeah, no._ Pushing back by her knees, she threw herself at him. When she knocked into him, he compulsively pulled the trigger. On instinct her eyes closed. Flashing bright even behind her eyelids, a comet blistering her eyebrow line…that’s what the graze felt like. 

They hit the floor struggling.

“I want to see that brat!” The boy shrieked as she grasped a hold of him by his floppy fringe and he tried to knee her in the stomach. There wasn’t much space to do that in, though. Better luck for her. “I want to tighten my hands around his neck and strangle him! What he did to my brother…” he stopped as she leveraged her weight on him through her knees.

“I imagine he did to many other people,” she finished for him. Not to hurt him or anything – just because it was true. But he let out a sob anyway, and didn’t resist as she pried the gun away from him. He didn’t resist at all in fact, now just a dead lump underneath her.

“You,” she said, her arm around the boy’s neck just in case, pointing at one of the teachers who had been watching the scene in mute terror. “You weigh more than me. Sit on him for a sec, will you?”

Then she focused on one of the other teachers, the one wearing heels. “And you, check the cabinets will you? We’ll need something to tie this boy up-“ for when her boss came, but she kept that for herself. She quickly switched with the burly teacher and then checked the gun for bullets.

She puffed air out of her nose when she saw there’d been only one. “For the boss, huh?” If it were her, she’d have gone with many. Where Hibari was concerned, no overkill was overkill. Kind of like a vampire in a way.

“Sawada,” a voice called out to her while she was busy checking. She slid the cylinder back in and looked over to see her homeroom teacher Nezumi of all things. The sloppily dressed, unimpressive teacher made a gesture at his eyebrow. “You’re hurt – do you need someone to call you an ambulance?”

_Hurt?_

She followed his gesture and slid her finger over her eyebrow. “Ahh-“ she couldn’t help but letting out a small noise. A hiss, really. When she looked down, her hands came back red.

Her knowing seemed to have unleashed the floodgates. The pain was comparable to someone having dripped hot wax above her forehead, and it was sliding down her hairline and into her right eye. “Ffffff-“ she stopped herself from letting out the curse word as the door slammed open, and his gakuran snapping at the air around him, her boss entered.

He took a visible back take.  “Setsu–“ his eyes widened, and he finished, “-na Sawada.”

_Weird. First name first?_

But Setsuna brushed the thought of as she clicked her heels sharply and saluted him. However good a one she could make with bloody hands. So probably not very crisply.

He swept his eyes over the hogtied lunatic and the composed teachers-the majority of which had already settled back into their workshops. “The gun,” he demanded, not looking at her. Setsuna willingly gave it to him before settling back on the balls of her feet, waiting for orders.

Her heart was racing weirdly but she felt ill too. _Adrenaline backlash._ Her head wound probably contributed too. _And I just got back from Shamal._ Eh, she had no other choice.

Like her, Hibari’s first reaction was to check the barrel for any bullets. He let out a soft tch once noticing there weren’t any left, but his face remained blank so she couldn’t read why. She was getting bored anyway, so she looked away from him to put pressure on her head wound. If she remembered correctly, they were the types to bleed much.

There was a quiet moment were nobody in the room knew what to do, before her boss spoke again. “I’ll send someone to take care of the blood stains.” He reached down to lift the lunatic up by his collar. The boy unfroze and started letting out expletives.

_Irritating._

Setsuna took the initiative to whip her arm back to whoop him, but Hibari touched her on the skin of her elbow. He heaved the wriggling boy over his arm, fire engine style while she berated herself for making assumptions.

But, “….Good work.”

Surprised, she whipped around but he’d turned his back.  “Also…get Shamal to look at that wound.” His word quota for the day reached, Hibari vanished.

….All the time she hadn’t reacted. Now Setsuna shook. _Even his concern…is frightening._

How much feelings he brought her…. _Frightening._

 

The door burst open, and the medic bay abruptly became swamped with visitors. Okay, maybe that was a bit of an over-exaggeration, but from Shamal’s spluttering and the voices falling over themselves to speak first in the once silent room, it seemed much busier than before.

Setsuna let out a sigh. No doubt this had been Kyoko’s idea, since that girl assuredly could not let anything go. Definitely the sort of person to make gestures like this which she meant to be thoughtful, without thinking of the person involved.

But maybe that was uncharitable of her. Though she felt little, she knew she was in the minority. More likely, all entering at this point of time was a way of assuring themselves she was fine, of putting themselves at ease. And she didn’t grudge them the chance.

She answered her group’s most urgent question first. “No, I didn’t lose an eye.” How they knew she’d been grazed with a bullet near her eye when there had only been teacher’s in the room with her (as she’d met nobody when traveling here) …. she didn’t want to know.

“It might have injured the retina though,” she mused thoughtfully, as it struck her that she might have been in big trouble if she hadn’t blinked her eyes shut. 

“The retina?! Setsuna!” Kyoko’s voice came out strangled, as she pushed past a panicking Gokudera and a severely frowning Yamamoto on her way to the bed.

 _Oops._ “I meant that could have happened,” Setsuna corrected herself, looking at Kyoko with her one eye. Her other, along with most of her forehead, had been bandaged. “I managed to blink them shut before then, so no worries.”

“No worries,” Yamamoto mouthed to himself. She could see it from the corner of her eye. And there was a hardness in his jaw there hadn’t been before. Setsuna felt a prick of something that might be guilt, though it was a spark which died out quickly. To be the reason why he wasn’t smiling…she’ll have to be more careful in the future.

Not a moment had those words left Yamamoto’s mouth he was elbowed to the side so she could see Gokudera’s face. He looked like the moments after being slapped. A paralyzing, startled look in realization. Since he wore the look often, she didn’t feel anything at it.

“Tenth….how could I let this happen! As your second hand, I _should_ have been there!”

He reinforced his words by grabbing fists full of dynamite and making a chucking movement. Face darkening. “Your enemies-! I’ll blow them **sky high**!”

“You do know you were one of my enemies once too, right?” she asked him. “This is a common occurrence with me. Really, better to get used to it.” Though the guns were new.

Another strangled sound left Kyoko (oops) and Gokudera’s expression crumpled like a puppy’s left out in the rain. She patted him on the cheek. “There there.”

“Gods, you can be such an asshole sometimes,” Hana muttered, who was standing in the far right corner of the room, and as such the farthest away from Shamal. Setsuna understood that was probably the point of her standing arrangement.

“I don’t know. I think she’s just shy,” Yamamoto replied, looking over at the sourly grimacing girl. His words were full of the cheer his face lacked for once. “We really shouldn’t take Setsuna’s words at face-value.” Then he dragged her into it, “Right Tsuna?”

“TSUNA?!” Ryohei reacted first, shocked. He stopped the conversation he was having with Shamal (probably to distract the man so to give them all time to visit her), his neck rotating what she swore was a full one-eighty.

“T…Tsuna?” Gokudera echoed right after. His tone was contemplative, as was the furtive look he sent her.

She withdrew her hand. “About that…is this going to be a thing now, Yamamoto?” Gokudera looked crestfallen at how she ignored him, his shoulders drooping.

Meanwhile, the boy in question flashed her a smile taunt at the edges. “You can call me Takeshi in return, if you want.”

 _Takeshi…_ She blinked at him, rolling the idea round on her tongue. She had to try it out too. So decided, she said – “Takeshi.”

To her surprise, the call chased away the remaining shadows from the boy’s countenance, and she had her collected Yamamoto back. Oh. Or Takeshi, now.

It didn’t feel much different from before. “Takeshi.” Unconcerned, she nodded at herself, and looked over to Kyoko who was hiding her mouth with her hands. “Kyoko.” She then switched her gaze to the girl’s brother. “Ryohei.”

They all gave brief smiles at her calling their names. With a brief moment of wistfulness, Setsuna wondered what it’d take for her to feel anything at her name being called, what it’d be like. Or her nickname now, as it were.

“T-Tenth?” Gokudera stuttered. The dynamites in his grip had disappeared, contained fists instead hanging at his sides. “Can you…”

“Call your name too?” Setsuna finished for him. “Hmm.”

It probably wasn’t bad to give pets treats once in a while, if she made sure she didn’t spoil. “Hayato.”

Hearts in his eyes, he looked completely infatuated with the sound of his name.

Hana meanwhile, from her corner, just let out a harrumph over Shamal’s call of “Me too! Call me Shamal, Se~tsu~na~” in what she knew he thought was a sexual purr but just sounded like he was hacking up something.

Watching the room full of people, Setsuna found herself thinking once again…. _really, this isn’t too bad._ Though Shamal scattered them just after, saying that she needed her ‘rest’ after the high risk day she’d had. True enough, even if she wouldn’t find it in dreams.

Slipping under the covers again, she counted the breaths she took as she tried staying awake. Without a doubt, once she slipped under, only horrors lied in wake.

 

When he’d first heard Tsuna was injured from a helpful bystander, Yamamoto had actually felt nothing. Maybe part of it was shock, but he’d already known it was because, as he had learnt when the girl’s words had called him back from the edge, it was because he hadn’t _wanted_ to feel anything. Surely his heart would have been crushed and he’d feel like the floor had dropped from underneath him, the planet stopping its spin-but instead he’d willingly chosen apathy.

He’d willingly chosen it, because as Tsuna’s words had thought him, it was better not to get attached. Passion could control him, could cage him. It could cause him to act in confusing ways, could lead him astray and like in his dreams, he might end up right back at that edge again. He’d chosen freedom over being caged, even by her.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t care. He felt good she was doing fine. He looked forwards to the days he and the rest of her friends met up again. He just didn’t cling to the feeling. He didn’t leech off of it, allow it to be his everything.

Instead, these days, Yamamoto poured parts of himself into many things. He fragmented himself, and now he could brush of just about anything. And that included one of the best things that had dropped into his life, dropping back out again. Confident as he was, that tomorrow Tsuna could walk of an edge itself, and beyond mourning her death, he wouldn’t look beyond it.

Shallow as his thoughts were for that reason: to see everything like he was skirting the surface, his reaction to the news showed him it was working well.

(Everyone was _disappointed_ he couldn’t play-ignore it. You can’t play, and that’s sad, because baseball’s a fun game. Somebody had shot a bullet at Tsuna and he _hadn’t been there-_ ignore it. Tsuna had been wounded, and that’s sad, but at least you could cheer her up while she was in the medic bay.)

To not look beyond. To not stir the tranquillity of the surface. Ripples, not waves. Acceptation, not rejection.

Simple.

Except.

But.

It was just… He was starting to feel a bit…irritated. (As your second-hand, I _should_ have been there! Gods, you can be quite the asshole, sometimes.)

Didn’t they _understand?_ With Tsuna, it wasn’t necessary to look beyond. She was as she was, no matter the sometimes putrid words that left her mouth. She saved him, saved Gokudera. And he’d tried to _kill her_ before, was an enemy of hers before-and instead of letting those actions speak for themselves…instead of troubling her…they made her take responsibility for their feelings.

Didn’t Gokudera understand that in such a situation, Tsuna didn’t need to know how bad he felt? She had to look after herself, not feel bad at not being able to help how powerless Gokudera ( _how powerless he_ ) felt. And neither did she need to be called bad names for not wanting to care ( _not wanting to be caged_ ) about Gokudera.

It had taken a lot of acting skill not to glare at either of them. To not bother Tsuna, who didn’t need anything right now but to know she was in their thoughts. 

Tsuna and he…they were kindred spirits, after all. It was how _he’d_ feel. In her place…

( _Irrit_ a _ting_.)

 

At home that day, when Nana saw her bandage, she...didn’t react. Much.

“Oh no,” the woman said, though she didn’t bothering sitting up from where she’d been watching tv. “Did you trip over your feet again?” She sighed. “My poor clumsy daughter.”

Setsuna looked at her mother’s lazy form stretched out low over the sofa cushions before she let out a soft snort, shaking her head. It was her mother’s issues: the inability to recognise degrees of seriousness.

A tap from the window sill made her look around to see Reborn returning, and putting up the latch again.

 _I wonder_. “Do you have anything to say to me, Reborn?”

“Good work.”

Her eyebrow kicked up, and she moved towards the arm chair across from the sofa. “I almost got killed by my own stupidity-Ah.” Remembering her mother was there, Setsuna quickly added- “Falling from the stairs at school. But all you have to say is...good job?”

“You want me to give you my opinion?”

Reborn’s smile was as enigmatic as obvious as his beady eyes, but she felt they were measuring her.

“If you could.”

Reborn hopped from the window sill and started toddling in the direction of the hallway. Giving her mother an offhand glance, Setsuna pulled herself from the cosy plush of her armchair and followed behind. They ended up in her room.

Setsuna sat down on her swivel chair as Reborn uncovered a black board and shoved it against the closed door.

“I think what you did was very dangerous, but it was the best option so there weren’t any casualties,” Reborn said as he wrote a series of sentences on the black board. “As a mafia boss,” he began as he tapped the first sentence on the board with a nail, “You will be surrounded by many subordinates. If you don’t look after them; taking risks yourself, if needs be-you can’t call yourself a mafia boss.”

On the board was written: ‘family first.’

She spun around on her swivel chair, humming in thought.

Lowering his finger to the next sentence, Reborn spoke, “The upkeep of the bonds you make with your subordinates is also important. Today was a good start-your ally even almost called you by your first name.”

Was he being honest now? Reborn always gave her the impression he was being sarcastic, since his facial expressions never change. Actually, one of the only ways of expressing himself he seemed to have was dressing up in bizarre costumes. _Maybe he’s aware of it?_

“It’s depressing how you see someone calling me by my first name as progress,” she decided to say over the clamour of her thoughts. _Besides, boss calls me by my whole name a lot._ Nothing unusual.

“Idiot student,” Reborn intercepted. “He was about to call you by Setsuna. You didn’t see how tense he was at the mistake.”

Setsuna rolled her shoulders in a shrug, leaning into her chair. “Not really no.” She trusted him to always be predictable Hibari Kyouya, not suddenly change just because she’d been hurt. He’d sent her there! He’d have _known_ she’d get hurt.

Reborn quietened down. She could see behind him that he’d written ‘networking’ on the blackboard. She smiled at him. “Is that all?” before getting out of the chair and going over to the door.

A sigh was all the answer she got as she stepped out, and she thought she heard him mutter “hopeless.” Heh, not completely wrong. Setsuna did think herself as hopeless, but that’s why she took peace in the stuff that stayed the same. _If that even makes sense._

Being surrounded by people who cared about her was becoming her ‘new normal’ – but thinking Hibari could join them? _Ha!_ Just the thought almost had her giggling, though without much feeling. As usual.

No, probably she’d lose her respect in her boss if he could be that easily moved by _her_ of all people.

Setsuna squeezed out another chuckle as she padded into the living room. Yeah. Surely.

Strange. In the week after she’d first been injured-and had gotten quite the pretty scar from it, if inflamed slashes across your face can be called pretty-and she’d started to notice a distinct lack of enthusiasm in Gokudera.

As expected, he’d used her name maybe twice and then reverted back to tenth. (Setsuna had to wonder when to tell him she wasn’t going in the mafia after all.) But he’d been distant outside that too.

For one, he no longer waited for her at the door, which, okay. She could be without that, so she didn’t think much of it. But combined with his lack of presence in other parts of her life – including those she shared with the rest of her friend group, a disturbing pattern was starting to emerge.

At first, she didn’t know how to feel about it.

Annoyed maybe, because it seemed she didn’t have a bitch after all despite what Reborn had promised. Apathetic elsewhere, because she wasn’t the type to believe friends should spend their every moment together.

But mainly confused, because she’d already become resigned about his following of her, so she knew she hadn’t been sending out ‘leave me alone’ vibes.

In other words, he had to be doing this for himself, not her. Which meant he no longer cared about her so much? Even after she’d saved him, and he’d resolutely declared her his everything?

Okay then. If that’s how he wanted it to be-

.... _who am I even kidding._

His drawing back felt like abandonment. It felt like her teasing of him being shoved into her face. It felt like not being worth the attention he had shown her.

 _And that is the crux._ Before, when Setsuna had been alone, she hadn’t had to rely on the regard of others to create her image of herself. She had a bucket load of issues, but self confidence hadn’t been one of them-she’d never looked back with regret about the actions she took.

Until now. _Son of a bitch._

What it came down to, was.....that she’d been right, back when she’d first met with Yamamoto. Back when she’d told him to take his injury as a blessing, because without the expectations of others, he could be free. Could enjoy baseball again.

It wasn’t that she felt bad either. She could still barely feel. And when she could, it was a fragile thing, easily broken. She’d feel something and it’d slip away before she was even aware of it. So no, it wasn’t like she felt bad.

Or....?

Setsuna deflated, letting out a heavy sigh as she paced around her room. She’d folded her arms in front of her, and wore an ambiguous expression on her face.

 _That’s the word._ Ambiguous. She didn’t know what she felt like, only that she wanted it to stop. To rewind the clock. Pause it just before she’d met Gokudera-and turn his friendship down. She didn’t feel so strongly she regretted saving him, but rejecting his reached out hand? _Yes._

She felt a frown digging at her still healing scar and, defeated, dropped down onto her bed.

Swinging her legs back and forwards over the bed, she thought of ways to avoid this feeling. Maybe even actually sleeping was on the menu...

Setsuna snorted at just the thought. _Yeah, no._ She’d never be so desperate as to sleep on her own volition.

She just thought it when the door of her room bounced open. Ignoring the small form of her in-house tutor, she followed its path as it smacked against the bookcase right next to it. The books clattering together on the shelves.

He sauntered over to her at the bed, before jumping nimbly to take his place next to her.

Beady eyes inspected her for a second, he said, “You look down. There must be something wrong with your famiglia.”  
  
She slow-clapped. “Brilliantly deduced Sherlock. Got any other brilliant observations to share with the crowd?”

Only to regret her words when Leon, as always trustingly on the brim of Reborn’s hat, flowed into the form of a hammer. She had to do a frog jump backwards not to get hit.

“Don’t be so familiar with me, stupid-Tsuna.”

She let out a dry laugh, though her eyes still watched him closely for any sudden moves. “It’s Setsuna actually, but I guess close enough.” 

Here he actually raised his eyebrows at her. Setsuna squinted-no, those were caterpillars. Reborn didn’t have eyebrows.

They talked at the same time. “Please, no bugs in my room,” from her and “You actually believe you deserve the name stupid-Tsuna. Something must be wrong,” from him. His voice as dry as sand paper.

His words struck her with silence, though the words had their effect on him as the caterpillars slipped onto her covers (ew) before sliding over to the window. Reborn opened it to let them out, before latching it shut and facing her.

She pulled her legs up to her chin and rested her head on them. Watching Reborn now from a ninety-degree angle (though it was bringing a crick to her neck.) His gaze felt less accusative like this. (Though what did he have to accuse her off? _Nothing._ )

Slowly, hampering at first, but the words did come. If it was someone, why not spill it all to Reborn?

Setsuna knew already this small baby was a hitman, so even if he did come to an unfavourable conclusion, she’d be able to rest sure in her own that his was shit. A murderer didn’t have the caveat to judge her. (Better him than Kyoko.)

He listened quietly until she stopped and said, “Well?” Arched eyebrows included.

“Do the opposite of what your instinct is telling you to do,” he summed up succulently. “Doing anything at this point is better than nothing at all, stupid-Tsuna.” His look told her he knew very well that had been her plan-i.e., doing nothing at all in the hopes it’d go away by itself.

Hey, it had worked for the visions she dreamt (not really).

Okay, then.

“I’ll go and....talk to him, then,” murmuring it aloud, she moved past Reborn to drop down the window. Only once she stood at the base of the wall did it occur to her – “Wait, I don’t actually know where his house is.”

Only to be whacked on the face with two folding fans, which looked solid white at first glance (facefall) before Setsuna spread them apart and read the black lettering on them: Gokudera’s address. She cupped her hands to her mouth and yelled her thanks, before going on her way. Reborn wasn’t completely useless after all, quelle surprise.

 

A metal container. An area cut off from the rest of the neighbourhood by towering fences, complete with barbed spikes on the very top. Black and yellow tape wound across the main gate, saying: ‘access denied.’

Setsuna wrapped her arms around herself and cocked a brow at the dubious area. She gave the folded fans another check, but – “Yes, they do say it’s here.” She looked up again. “Really?” _Really?_

An abandoned industrial zone. How...gauche. Hadn’t Reborn called him here from Italy? If so, hadn’t Reborn been able to give the boy better accommodations?  
  
“Not that I care,” Setsuna reminded herself as she stuffed her hands into her pockets and walked up to the bell next to the gate. She didn’t immediately ring it, instead buffing her fingers nails as she held her hand out in front of her.

The pavement dipped underneath it as she swapped her weight from one leg to the other. Sneezing a bit as the wind carried with it the dust of the abandoned industrial zone.

_Is it too late to just....not talk to him?_

If she turned back now, he wouldn’t even know she had been here.

 _Too late...not to late._ Hmmm.

“Okay, now I’m just being a coward.” And while Setsuna had never much cared about being a coward, finding she had very little dignity to lose to begin with, hesitating like this was starting to feel silly.

With that in mind, she reached out

–And pressed the button. _Ring ring._

 

As usual in the time since he’d been saved the his tenth, Gokudera again didn’t know what to think. Though he’d put himself under the tenth leadership after realizing that one) she wasn’t pathetic as he’d thought and two) she must be a very compassionate person for saving him…he wasn’t sure about the latter anymore.

Though the arm sling idiot told her not to take her words at face-value, didn’t mean her words weren’t hurtful. It was seeming more and more that he’d caught the tenth on an especially uncaring day-that she’d just wanted the fight over and done with and that’s why she defused the bombs.

And it hurt to think about disloyal things like this of the only person who’d taken him in, but Gokudera couldn’t deny it any longer. She didn’t say unpleasant stuff to the others-her friends-just him. If so, did that mean she didn’t consider him a friend? If he was sure he was precious to her, that she wouldn’t abandon him on a whim, he might be okay with her behaviour, but he couldn’t be certain because she was genuinely caring towards them and not him.

Even her calling him by his first name-it was unexpected how…apathetic it made him feel. He had thought that being close to someone would have felt better than that, like the days when his mother was still alive. But in actuality he felt more comfortable in his skin when being around the arm sling idiot of all people…and no doubt the fact was wrong.

So what should he do, then? Abandon the tenth before he could be abandoned? Set his teeth and bear with it as the tenth only showed him warmth and a measure of affection when it seemed expected of her? Bare with it, but don’t expect much from her?

Maybe he wasn’t meant to be the girl’s right hand man, he couldn’t help but think. Maybe let Yamamoto have it, when he was the first to give her a nickname she approved-who called him by his name and showed some satisfaction at doing so, whereas she’d just been watching his reaction closely when doing so for him.

But at the same time…though it hurt to think so much of a person who didn’t think of him, and though he wished he’d feel better around her and be able to brush off her casual cruelties…he didn’t want to leave. He had finally found somewhere that, even if he didn’t fit in well with, accepted him. Accepted him in a half-hearted state, but still.

He was assured already nowhere else would want him. And the Vongola was such a high level mafia-with both prestige and tradition-staying might just be worth it for the inevitable advantages of being tied to the organisation. It irritated him that just thinking those words felt like betrayal-like he was just using the tenth for money…

But if she was using him simply for the expressions he’d give at the teasing or leftover affection, then he felt it _was_ fair for him to treat their relationship just as cavalry. Not as friends but as associates. Give and take, a business relationship. Except he didn’t know whether he could do that and not become attached.

So Gokudera still was in a dilemma. What to do? How to solve this? Gokudera tended to be a very meticulous person, though he didn’t let this show to other people as much. So he was used to figuring out game plans, mapping out answers to his dilemmas. But here, where he needed the ability to do it the most…he’d been left stumped.

So he allowed his body to work on autopilot, showing the tenth the Gokudera she had come to know, before he let the smile drop like garbage once he’d left the room. The rest of the group where deep into their own thoughts, or simply not looking at him in the moment, so his dip in spirits luckily went by unnoticed. Dragging his feet, Gokudera walked in the direction of the rooftop.

Once up there, he looked at something he could fix-unlike himself. The fence was still unstable since the moment the tenth had called of the baseball idiot’s suicide attempt, and since they’d been using the rooftop as their meeting place. Now that he thought about it, he wondered how said idiot felt about them using this place for lunch.

But he put it out of mind as well, since it was another thing he couldn’t help. Instead he started making measurements, pulling out the tape he had stashed in the same pockets as his dynamites.

The work consumed him for the rest of the day.

(It didn’t help.)

 

Gokudera’s surprised face met her at the gate as it pulled sideways to let her in.

“T, tenth?”

Setsuna ignored that to walk past him, though the lack of answering footsteps clued her in he was nailed to the ground.

“We need to talk.” She nodded towards the concrete container, where she had seen him appear from.

She heard him tsk (another red alert! _Before he wouldn’t have dared–)_ before marching in front of her to lead the way.

The inside of the container looked more lived in than Setsuna had expected. Stylish furniture decorated a checkered rug. There was an artsy lamp in the corner to give the container some colour, as well as the light bulbs attached to the ceiling.

The container was otherwise segmented through those drawing screens-the sort old Japanese houses used. So there was a lounge, a kitchen and a bedroom.

 _Nice place._ “So how much does your rent cost?” she asked, while inspecting the small heater at the side of the small glass table.

“Tenth...what are you doing here?” Gokudera said, only to wave his hands around and bluster, “Not that I don’t appreciate you visiting.”  All in a panic, like she didn’t already know that.

Setsuna narrowed her eyes. _Suspicious._ She laid her arms over the table, leaning backwards in her chair. “Anyway, I’m guessing you’re wondering why I’m here, though. Since I could have waited to see you at school.” She let silence fall for his answer, but there wasn’t one, so she continued.

“I did this because...I noticed a difference in how you were around me.” That tangle of almost pain, of discomfort, became even more knotted inside of her and she winced.

He visibly reacted.

She could see tension shoot through him, drawing his shoulders back like a cat face to face with a dog. A guilt drawn face.

“So you’re doing it on purpose.” The numbness waded through her again. Like she was light as water, as nothing. The tangle, still there, didn’t feel as burdensome. As usual, her apathy took care of the situation for her. _..._ who was she even kidding?

Setsuna didn’t care. To Setsuna, this was just another setback, nothing more. She’d simply gotten used to– _compliant_ to–his presence.

(She wasn’t made for friends.)

It’d do her good to see that it could be taken away from her. It meant she wouldn’t become spoilt.

(It was her fault this happened in the first place, anyway.)

Another uncomfortable silence dropped between them, and this time she had nothing to fill it with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mood change, huh? I'm not completely satisfied with this, so I might just scrap everything I've written here and try again. It really depends on what you, the readers, think. If you'd care to, please give me feedback on which areas need improving.


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